Understudy
by bikkothewriter
Summary: He’s lived his life as Zero One’s understudy. Now free of an evil doctor’s machinations what will he make of his new life? will work on random summary
1. Chapter 1

-1Title: Understudy

Author: bikkothewriter

Pairings: None yet, leaning towards 1x2x1

Warnings: Language, Yaoi, Blood, (maybe squick depending on where the reviews and the muse lead me)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the voices in my head and even they are suing for copyright infringement.

Summary: He's lived his life as Zero One's understudy. Now free of an evil doctor's machinations what will he make of his new life? (will work on random summary)

***

Chapter One

He'd dreamed of this day, to see Zero One brought low before him, to one-day stand over his dead body knowing that he was finally free. Instead, it was painful to watch the man his entire life was based around being hurt, to see him strapped to the upright gurney, spread eagle, his head hanging low in pain. Zero One wheezed through a swollen mouth, chest battered with broken ribs from the harsh beating the orderly was giving him. Each blow that landed on the shackled man's body reverberated through him and he wished for it to stop, for Zero One to stop being so stubborn and answer the damn question.

"Where are the plans for Wing Zero?" Dr. Faust asked, standing before Zero One. The man's head lolled but he did not answer. "Give him another injection."

"He's already had five," Faust's assistant said even as he began to prep the needle, filling the syringe with the murky blue fluid.

"Zero One is very resilient but he'll break eventually," Faust said cheerfully.

He could only watch in silent horror as the doctor grabbed a handful of Zero One's hair, pulling, exposing a neck bruised from the five injections of Faust's serum. Zero One whimpered as the needle slid home, the liquid filling his veins leaving him panting harshly.

"I wonder how many more of these injections you can take, Zero One, before they kill you. I'll give you time to think about it," the doctor said patting the man's cheek as he released his grip on his hair.

Faust turned away from Zero One, walking to the trash container tossing the used needle inside. He felt nauseous, staring at the thin slice of metal decorated in Zero One's blood. He forced him self to look away finding Faust standing just before him. He resisted the urge to retreat knowing he'd only back himself into the wall.

"You know, Zero," Faust said to him conversationally, "You're very lucky. If Zero One hadn't come here on his misguided mission to shut us down, it would have been you I'd be testing my serum on. You should thank him."

He stayed silent looking at Zero One instead of the doctor's smug, calculating face. He'd suffered pain, been shot, stabbed, even forced to blow himself up under Faust's care and he knew that if Zero One survived he would go through the same torment. He was not lucky, he simply knew what was coming, and unless Zero One died, he had nothing to thank him for.

Faust, his assistant and the orderly left the cell, left him alone with Zero One and he walked over to the bound man, looking into the cloudy blue eyes, the battered face, uncertain. For years, he had waited for this moment, to meet the man who caused him so much pain and suffering, who's every scar was mimicked on his own body, whose every deed he was forced to accomplish. Looking at the man before him, seeing himself mirrored there he felt ashamed that he ever entertained thoughts of killing him. Zero One was a prisoner to Faust's machinations just as he was and would continue to suffer as long as Faust willed it so.

"Are you…my brother?" Zero One whispered, his gaze focusing on him. "My twin?"

"No," he answered, not understanding why Zero One would ask him such a stupid question, thinking perhaps the serum had made him delirious.

Zero One moaned, a sad and mournful sound filled with pain, "No family. I have no family."

"Where are the plans?" Zero asked wanting to finish Faust's painful experiment before he went any further with this torture. Zero One pressed his lips tight together forcing himself not to answer. "He won't stop until you give him what he wants. I know from experience."

"Can't. No more war."

"How do you plan on winning the war without a Gundam? Have you given up?" he asked both hopeful for the chance to take over and disgusted with Zero One for abandoning the mission.

Zero One's head rose as he cast a confused look to Zero. "The war is over. Has been over for three years."

"That's not…" he started stopped short. Three years. Three years trapped in this hellhole and for what, he thought. To be Faust's guinea pig when he could have been free. Instead he'd been lied to, believing that the war still waged outside the compound's walls. Angry, he looked at Zero One, "Did you come here to kill me?"

"Didn't know," Zero One said shaking his head, "Didn't know you were here. Didn't know I had a clone."

Zero had always believed that Zero One knew about his existence, knew that he was being kept underground forced to go through the same missions, suffer through the same injuries to become his replacement should Zero One die in battle. Now, pumped so full of Faust's truth serum that he was barely conscious, Zero was forced to believe his counterpart. Forced to realize that the last three years had been in vain and all the anger he felt at Zero One was for nothing. He wasn't taking his time to end the war, putting himself in unnecessary danger without regards to Zero's own health. The war had been over and won and Zero One had gone on with his life unknowing. More painful yet to realize that Zero One believed him to be his missing family and not just a clone.

"Why did you come here?"

"Intercepted transmission. A trick. Thought J was alive. Here. Building a new Wing."

He clenched his fists, rage coloring his vision. He'd had enough of the lying, living under someone else's thumb, under someone else's rules. It was time to do what he wanted, to take control of his life and make his own choices, be his own man.

But first, he needed to take care of Zero One.

***

He cocked the gun, pressing the barrel against the small man's head as he kept his grip on Zero One's sagging body. Escaping the compound had been simple; adding Zero One to the equation had been the problem. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, with broken ribs and dried blood on his face and clothing. Maneuvering him through first the compound and then the streets without being caught was beginning to wear on Zero's body, though following his directions had proven useful as he'd found the doctor, catching him just as he was leaving his clinic for the night.

"Open the door and go back inside," Zero ordered keeping his voice low and steady.

The little man turned to look at the two, eyes widening behind his thin, framed glasses. "Dear Lord, there are two of you."

"Open the door," Zero hissed, pressing the gun harder against the man's head. He wanted to be off the street and in the safety of the small building. Zero One had managed, in fractured sentences, to give him the location of an old wartime doctor who would keep his mouth shut and help patch up the damage done to Zero One for a price.

The doctor blinked, looking between the both of them and it annoyed Zero. He was not a fan of being looked at, being studied but was saved from further scrutiny as the man opened the door, ushering them inside, through the darkened hallways of the small clinic and into an examination room. The doctor flicked the lights on, directing him to help Zero One sit on the examination table.

"Now which one of you is Heero?" the doctor asked rooting through a draw for a clean pair of latex gloves.

"It doesn't matter," Zero said wanting to be off the asteroid before the end of the night cycle.

"Not you then," the doctor said cheerfully. He turned to Zero One taking his face in his gloved hands looking into his eyes. "What happened?"

"Drugged and beaten. Found my clone. Escaped. Ran away," Zero One answered still under the effects of the serum and unable to keep his mouth shut to Zero's chagrin.

"I think that's the most I've ever heard him say at one time. What were you drugged with?" the doctor asked pullig Zero One's drooping eyelids apart, shining a penlight into his eyes.

"An experimental truth serum," Zero One answered again.

"Stop talking," Zero ordered, upset that the Wing pilot was spilling information with little prompting. "And stop asking him questions."

"A truth serum? I'm surprised such a thing would work on him." The doctor turned the light out, stuffing it back into this coat pocket.

"I don't need to hear you talk. I need you to bandage him up."

"I see his personality carried over into you. How hurt is he?" the doctor asked, turning back to the cabinets against the wall pulling materials out.

"At least three broken ribs," Zero answered. "And a few cuts and scrapes."

"Get his shirt off,: the doctor said absently as he laid out materials on a rolling cart.

Zero glared at the man, unhappy that he was finally free and still taking orders. He holstered the gun moving towards Zero One keeping the doctor in his line of sight as he helped the dazed man out of his shirt. His chest was already a dark and angry color of fist shaped prints. In a few spots, his skin had swelled and split in inch long tears where blood had clotted leaving a red and tacky mess smeared on Zero One's skin.

"Will any of these scar?" Zero asked staring at the cuts intently.

"Mmm, they shouldn't, they're very minimal. If they do they'll fade quickly."

More cuts, more scars, he thought to himself even as he tried to remember that he no longer needed to mimic Zero One. The war was over, he'd seen proof of that as he'd carried Zero One through the darkened streets, had forced Faust to confess the truth before he'd shot him between the eyes and yet he was overwhelmed with the need to match. His mind already coming up with quick solutions do mimic the cuts should they scar.

Zero One took a staggered breath as the doctor cleaned the cuts, the right side of his chest rising while the left side fell. A chest flail. He'd been right about the three broken ribs though it was hard to be wrong when he'd heard them snap. He'd watched Branson throw the punch and felt his own ribs twinge in pain, as if in sympathy for the pain he knew Zero One was suffering. Thankfully, his lungs hadn't felt as sentimental and he was not struggling for breath the way Zero One was.

"Stay with me now, Heero," the doctor said, steadying the man as he lolled, body slumping. "Climb onto the table and keep him upright."

Zero grunted but did as he was told, further crumpling the white sanitary sheet as he climbed behind Zero One with his knees on either side of the injured man, cupping him under his arms to hold him upright. Zero One moaned in pain, trying to twist away from the pressure the position put on his chest and lungs.

"Hold still now and I'll give you something for the pain."

"No," Zero said, "No medicine."

"Do you want him to suffer?"

"No," Zero One said and the doctor looked down confused even as the man continued, "I don't want him to suffer."

"We aren't talking to you Heero, just about you," the doctor clarified. Looking to Zero he asked, "Why can't he have any medicine?"

"He was given six injections of the serum," Zero was forced to explain, "I don't know what another drug might do to him."

"Six? That's an extreme amount even for him. I know he has a high tolerance but…we need to counteract it. He's overdosed on it and it could be killing him as we speak," the doctor said his voice lowering, words hurried as he turned back to the cabinets, searching for more supplies.

"I don't know what's in the serum. Only that it's meant to make the victim tell the truth. Faust said it would wear off eventually."

"I trust this Faust about as much as I trust you," the doctor said looking back at him. "Who are you?"

"I don't know," Zero One answered.

"I told you to stop talking," he said to Zero One and to the doctor, "I told you to stop asking questions. If you have ideas on how to help save him without more drugs then do it."

"How sure are you that it'll wear off?" the doctor asked looking unsure.

"I don't know," Zero One answered and Zero resisted the urge to shake him like a rag doll, annoyed with the situation and Zero One's loose lips.

"Ninety percent. It wouldn't be the first time Faust has lied to me."

"I'll bandage his ribs. You'll need to keep a close eye on him. Check his pupils every hour and ask him questions to check for brain damage."

"What?"

The doctor stopped looking at him over Zero One's shoulder. "You can't leave him alone like this. There are a thousand secrets floating around in that head of his and in the wrong hands…" the doctor trailed off not needing to elaborate.

"I can't."

"You got him this far."

"I've waited my entire life for him to die so I could take his place," he said angrily, "I only changed my mind today when I realized he didn't know anything about me. I'm not the best choice for this job."

"Do you still want him die?" the doctor asked.

"Never wanted him to die. Thought he was my brother. My family," Zero One whispered.

"Shut up," Zero said his heart clenching in pain. His brother. The fool thought they were brothers.

"Do you want him to be your brother?"

"Stop it."

"Yes."

"He doesn't just have to answer truthfully, he has to speak truthfully. Could you really leave him like this?"

"No," Zero One said. "Can't leave him. He's all I have."

"I'm not your brother," Zero said angrily because once the drugs wore off Zero One would take back what he said, would abandon him in the world on his own. He didn't want to form that sort of attachment to the man he both idolized and hated just to be cast away when he came back to his senses.

"Why not?" the doctor asked and Zero One was blessedly quiet.

"I'm just a clone. They made me to replace him incase he died in the war. I'm not really his family."

"The war is over."

"I know that now."

"You could be brothers. You share the same blood and DNA. Some people have less and claim to be related."

"Just shut up. I want off this asteroid tonight and I don't to think about being anyone's brother."

"Will you stay with him? Until he's better?"

"Yes," Zero One answered.

"Yes," Zero replied.

"Yes," Zero One said blissfully as he slipped firmly into unconsciousness, head dropping heavily against his chest.

***

He dumped Zero One on the squeaky hotel bed, albeit gently, arranging him on top the covers on the left side of the bed, saving room for himself. The hotel was cheap, the covers faded, wallpaper peeling, and the carpet threadbare but he had little money left after paying the doctor for his time and his silence and for the supplies he would need to take care of Zero One until he was mobile again.

His entire stash of escape money gone in only a few hours and none of it spent on the liquor and hookers he'd promised himself upon his escape. Years of careful pick pocketing wasted on Zero One, who he should have dumped in the first crater he found. He could be living life as Heero Yuy, working his job, rubbing elbows with his friends, fucking his girlfriend except he didn't know anything about this post-war Zero One. He didn't even know if the man had a job or lived his life as a bum on the street.

He needed a computer. He needed to know everything there was to know about Zero One. His knowledge of the other man was sorely lacking and he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew that he could replace him. He'd been bred for it, trained for it. He couldn't imagine another purpose for himself besides being Zero One's understudy while the other man was still alive.

He was free and yet not free. The compulsion too strong to resist, he head towards the door.

"Don't go," Zero One called and he pulled up short, turning back to look at the weak and crumpled figure on the bed whose hand stretched towards him. "Don't leave me."

"I'm not. I need to find a computer. I need to do some research. I'll be back soon."

"Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me," Zero One pleaded his voice soft and painful to hear.

Zero swallowed roughly, the fear he heard in Zero One's voice resonating in him, imagining what the other man must be seeing. Being left in a foreign, unknown room, with no lights save those coming from under the door and through the shuttered blinds, laying weak and disoriented on a bed while the one person you believed you could trust walked away leaving you alone. But not for long, because once he left that's when they would come. They would come to teach him how to be strong, how to take pain without crying, without begging for mercy even as he was being torn apart.

His stomach rolled as he raced back to the bed, taking Zero One's hand in his clutching it tightly as he lay beside him as close as he could without injuring the other man further.

"I'll stay," he told him, "I won't leave you alone."

"Thank you," Zero One murmured sincerely drawing Zero's hand close to his chest, holding on with both hands as he drifted off to sleep again. "Aniki."

Zero lay quietly beside Zero One listening to his unsteady breathing, contemplating the turn in his life. The doctor was right; he couldn't leave Zero One in such a perilous situation no matter how much he had prayed for his death at one time. He would stay beside Zero One as long as he was needed, until the other man sent him away.

And up until that point, he would do everything he could to prove to Zero One just how good a twin brother he could be.

***

Aniki technically means older brother (couldn't find the word for  
twin brother) and I thought it was cute for Heero to say.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Title: Understudy

Author: bikkothewriter

Pairings: None yet, leaning towards 1x2x1

Warnings: Language, Yaoi, Blood, (maybe squick depending on where the reviews and the muse lead me)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the voices in my head and even they are suing for copyright infringement.

Summary: He's lived his life as Zero One's understudy. Now free of an evil doctor's machinations what will he make of his new life? (will work on random summary)

***

Chapter Two

The nightmare was only different in that he wasn't alone this time. Zero One lay beside him under the dusty and rickety bed, clutching tightly to his hand as he tried to control his breathing. They were both small, maybe five or six years old, hiding because the woman had hidden them, made them promise to keep quiet no matter what. Zero One's eyes shifted left and right agitated as he listened to the gunshots in the distance, hand squeezing tightly in worry.

The woman was praying, begging for someone to come and save them all, to make the horror outside the closed bedroom door stop as she moved the heavy dresser to barricade the door. Her hysterical crying scared him most. Hearing the fear in her voice as she did what she could to protect him and the newly added Zero One.

The banging started; the man in black combat boots was already at the door, breaking through the wood. He could hear it splintering, a piece of it skittering underneath the bed startling Zero One. He buried his face against the floor whimpering as it dawned on him what was about to happen.

The dresser shoved aside, the man in the black combat boots forced the woman back even as she screamed at him. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was deafening as the man in black combat boots knocked her to floor without a word or mercy. The blood was a bright red, a precursor, as it splashed across the floor from her broken nose. She tried to rise and the black combat boot was there against her back, pressing her into the floor.

She looked to them, from underneath the navy dust ruffle, her eyes pleading for them to stay quiet, to stay hidden even as the barrel of the shotgun pressed into the back of her head. The familiar click-click of the double barrel being cocked sounded and Zero One whimpered, watching. The flash was blinding, disorienting with its suddenness, the bang stifling Zero One's yelp.

It was the hot wash of blood and sharp bits of bones pelting their faces that woke them.

Zero looked across the bed to Zero One whose face was sweaty and pale. He dropped Zero's hand, scrambling away rubbing invisible blood from his face. Tangled in the sheets, the pain in his ribs hindering him he fell from the bed to the floor, rolling over, barely getting his feet underneath him as he dashed to the bathroom.

Zero watched the frantic Zero One for all of a moment before he followed behind him, crawling across the bed, his feet sure underneath him as he hurried to the bathroom. Turning on the light, he found Zero One on his knees, the raised seat clutched in both hands, heaving into the toilet, filling the bowl with a mix of blue serum and black vile.

"Are you alright?" he asked unnecessarily trying to muster concern for the other man.

"No…dream…nightmare," Zero One said gasping, voice echoing inside the bowl. "Who was that woman?"

"I don't know. It's just a dream," he told Zero One.

The recurring nightmare was one he had come to terms with a long time ago as being a mystery. He'd never had a woman hide him away underneath a bed, endangering her life to save his. He'd always assumed that it was a residual memory carried over from Zero One. The doctors had simply told him to ignore the dream. That it wasn't real and meant nothing. To let him affect him meant punishment and Zero was nothing if not a quick study.

"You've had it before."

"Yes."

"Why did I have it too?"

"A side effect of the serum?" he guessed. He had always been alone in his dream, the lone observer. Zero One joining him, becoming apart of the dream along with seeing it for himself was very new and not something he truly wanted to discuss.

He took the plastic wrapped cups from the sink's counter filling the cheap blue and red paper cup with water, passing it to Zero One. He accepted the cup washing his mouth out first before accepting a refill to drink. He set the cup on the back of the commode hands shaking, then flushed. He levered himself off the floor, sitting carefully on the closed lid exhausted.

"The compound. What happened?"

"I destroyed it," he explained simply. After questioning and then killing Faust, he had taken care of the rest of the staff. It had not taken them long to realize that he had gone rogue and had tried to oppose his and Zero One's escape and had been dealt with accordingly. He'd secured Zero One outside of the compound before going back inside setting the self-destruct on the compound, knowing that it would eradicate everything inside the underground bunker without causing harm to the asteroid.

"Everything?"

"There's nothing left but a burnt out shell."

"No," Zero One moaned, pained. He clutched his chest as he slouched obviously hurt by the news.

"What is it?" Zero asked confused by the reaction. Zero One had come to shut down the compound to stop Wing Zero from being recreated. He would have thought the man pleased to hear that he had taken care of the job for him.

"I was hoping to find something about my past. Where I came from. That was the last place."

"There was nothing on any of the computers or in Faust's files. Not even how or when I was cloned," he answered annoyed that Zero One would think him so sloppy as to not obtain any and all valuable information before he left the compound to its destruction..

"The serum. You said you didn't know the formula," Zero One accused.

Zero growled retracting his promise to be a good 'brother' deciding it would be better to kill Zero One to save himself from the other man's stupidity. "Faust made several different versions of the serum, all of them blue. Would you like a detailed list of all the ingredients used for the eight different combinations he made or would you prefer I go back and tell Dr. Ocean exactly how to make his own truth serum?"

"No," Zero One replied sullenly and Zero felt guilty for snapping at him.

"I need to check your eyes," he said lamely, leaving the room. He rummaged through the plastic bags searching for the penlight he'd stolen from the doctor, pausing as he came across the medical scissors. There was one glaring difference between himself and Zero One and he would need to rectify it immediately. With items in hand, he returned to the bathroom, dropping the scissors on the counter. He clicked the penlight on pointing it in Zero One's direction.

"Look at me," he said tilting Zero one's head up, shining the light in one then the other eye, watching the pupils narrow. "Your eyes look normal. I think the serum should wear off.

"Come on," he said, tossing the light onto the counter, "I'll take you back to bed."

"No. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to have another nightmare," he said, then looked up at Zero stricken, "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"I think it's a side effect. You've said a lot of things I don't think you intended to say."

Zero One blushed a deep red and Zero considered the possibly of the serum hindering Zero One's control of his physical reactions along with his speech. He'd been raised to be emotionless. Anger, hatred, happiness, sadness were all weaknesses, things that would get him killed. The Zero One he'd met before the first injection had been what he always imagined of him, cold and unflinching, unbreakable. Six injections later and Zero was seeing the man underneath the training, behind the mask of a soldier, assassin and terrorist. It frightened him. If the effects of the serum were permanent, he couldn't possibly mimic such feelings and emotions when he had none himself.

He turned away from Zero One, deciding to focus on the things he could change and control. He ran the tap, unwrapping the small, black courtesy comb from its plastic wrapping, holding it under the water. Using the wet comb, he dampened his hair forcing the strands long and straight. Zero One watched with narrowing eyes as he picked up the angled medical scissors slicing through an uplifted section of hair.

"What are you doing?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, attributing the stupid question to the serum. He was an exact copy of Zero One except for the hair. He had the long and chunky locks that Zero One donned through the war but the current Zero One had a much shorter, spikier cut that left his face open and his eyes framed by a dark fringe of bangs. Maintaining the old outdated look was unacceptable and would have been remedied earlier if not for Zero One's need of him.

"Why are you cutting your hair?"

"To match," he said, hoping that Zero One would stop asking him pointless questions.

"Why do you need to match me?"

"Because it's what I've always done."

"You can't be me. People will know the difference," he said arrogantly, the Zero One he'd come to mimic resurfacing and pissing him off just as much as the chatty version did.

"You think I can't be you," he asked angrily, bending down, getting in Zero one's face, not hiding his contempt. "You don't think I could trick everyone you know into believing I was you?"

"No. I have," and here he tried to stifle himself but the rest still came although warbled, "Distinctive scars."

Zero pulled his shirt off roughly, tossing it away, baring his scarred chest and arms to Zero One who paled his face a mixture of shock and grief. He reached out a trembling hand, touching the long shiny scar across his abdomen care of Branson and a hunting knife given to Zero One by an Alliance soldier. His hand trialed upwards to his right arm where the shiny rounded bullet wound lay. Duo Maxwell had shot Zero One; Faust had shot him.

"No," Zero One said struggling to his feet, grabbing him around the shoulders, forcing him to turn and reveal his ravaged back. It was his most hated scar, starting from his right shoulder spreading like an eruption down his back, angry rivulets of twisted and gnarled scar tissue. In his more delirious and pain-filled moments it looked very much like a sunburst, almost beautiful in its ugliness. He felt Zero One's fingers run along his scars, the touch ghost because his nerves were so badly damaged.

"Plastic," Zero One choked, "plastic surgery. Is that how they…?" Zero One began and Zero laughed humorlessly the sound biting to his own ears.

"Is that really how you think I got these scars?" he asked turning back to Zero One.

"No," he said and Zero could see that it pained him to do so. "Why? Why would they?"

"I'm replacement. Or I was."

"I'm sorry," Zero One said, voice cracking as he stared uselessly at his chest.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"They hurt you because me," he answered, "They hurt you because of me!"

"Zero One," he said softly, trying to calm the agitated man.

"I would have stopped them. I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I didn't know. I would have come sooner had I known," he ranted, voice rising as he went, charged full of emotion. "I wouldn't have let them hurt you like this. I wouldn't have let them do this. Please," he said looking up and Zero froze startled, "Believe me. I would have stopped them."

Zero One was crying.

His eyes were filled with blue tears, a watered down version of the serum that tracked down his cheeks as he clung to Zero's shoulders. He was overwhelmed by what he saw before him. Zero One was crying over him, over what he had had to suffer through. He had never imagined that anyone would cry over him, maybe as Zero One but never as himself.

Humbled he answered Zero One, "I believe you."

***

He'd spent the next hour blissfully alone, working on his hair as Zero One had wanted to go back to bed after his teary eyed rant. Zero imagined that it was quite strange and embarrassing for the other man to not have control over his emotions, to have his feelings pour out his mouth unrestrained. Had it been him, he too would have wanted to be alone after such a revealing moment.

Zero One sat propped against the bed's pillows sullenly, an ice pack pressed to his chest, watching a late night cop drama with volume turned low. Zero noticed he hadn't moved much since he'd put him back in the bed as he turned off the bathroom's light crossing the room to get in the bed beside Zero One.

They watched the screen, Zero quickly catching up on the plot. He couldn't imagine a scientist like Faust going to a crime scene to collect evidence while sharing witty banter with his colleagues but the group depicted were not stuffy and sadistic old men. In fact, two of them were women and Zero found himself wanting to see the blond woman named Willows on the screen over most of the other cast members. That was until Stokes was introduced and he determined that he could definitely stand to watch the show more often. Sitting crossed-legged, elbows on his knees face cupped in the palm of his right hand, he slouched comfortably enjoying the normalcy. He had not been afforded many opportunities to watch TV and he planned to enjoy as much of it as possible now that he was from under Faust's careful monitoring.

"Zero isn't a name," Zero One said after some time. "I don't like it."

He didn't answer as Zero One hadn't asked a question and hadn't told him something he didn't already know. Zero was a numbered designation given to him, though Faust had made a habit of telling him his name meant he was next to nothing until Zero One died.

"Are you going to kill me?" Zero One asked a few minutes later and Zero could not be bothered enough to turn away from the TV as he answered.

"Don't you think I would have done it by now?"

"No. You still need information from me. About my life."

"Is there a point to this conversation, Zero One?" Stokes and Willows were both on the screen and Zero One seemed determined to interrupt him from his new favorite hobby.

"Yes. That isn't my name."

"Neither is Heero Yuy," he countered, "The point?"

"I want you to call me by my name. I don't like being called Zero One."

"No, the point of this conversation," he explained.

"I want you to come with me but not if you're going to kill me later to impersonate me."

"Why would you believe me? I could easily lie to you to get what I want or ask you to tell me everything I want to know about you."

"I want to trust you. I want to help you."

"What would you do in my place? What would you do if you were me?"

"I'd kill you and take your place," he said sadly lowering his head as he forced to tell the truth which Zero appreciated. The serum did at least have some advantages.

"You'd kill me and take my place," he confirmed with a nod. "I'll be honest; I entertained the thought until I realized that you knew nothing about me. I believe what you said in there," he said nodding his head towards the bathroom. "I'm not going to kill you."

Zero One stayed silent after that and Zero wondered irritably why he couldn't have had that talk during the commercial break as none of the running advertisements were amusing. He had no need for a male enhancement drug, did not plan to buy a car, or want to go to a casino, though he would like some soda.

"I want you to be my brother," Zero One said just as the show came back on and Zero resisted the urge to sag in defeat.

"For how long?" he questioned hoping to have Zero One drop the topic and quickly.

"I don't understand the question," Zero One said after a slight pause.

"How long will you want me around before you change your mind about this?"

"There is no time limit. I…you…you could be my twin, my family. We could take care of each other."

"How long have you felt like this?" he asked, confused by Zero One's resolve. He was more lucid now than he was a few hours ago and he'd thought the man would have given up on the idea of them being a family. It seemed though that even cognizant and aware of the words coming form his mouth he still wanted Zero as a family member, meaning that it was not a serum induced want.

"As long as I can remember."

"And you want me to be your magic solution? Your family?"

"No. Yes," he said answering each question in turn. "Don't you want to have family?"

"I've gotten used to no one caring about me."

"That's not an answer," Zero One said, pushing.

"Yes," he said annoyed that Zero One was forcing the issue. Of course he wanted a family, to have a home and people who cared more about him than what he could do for them. "Yes, I want a family. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's too bad. We're not brothers. We're not related. You're my original and I'm you're clone. Thinking anything else is a waste of time."

"We are related and I don't know if I'm the original."

"What?" he said finally turning to look at Zero One head on. "What do you mean you don't know if you're the original?"

"I don't know where I came from. I don't know if I'm not a clone too. J would never tell me. He said it was not important to the mission."

That was new information and meant a great deal to Zero. He'd assumed that Zero One had been an orphan taken in by J, or at least that was the story Faust had told him, but realizing that he may not be the only clone in the equation, that Zero One's past was as shadowed as his was a new and auspicious discovery. He suddenly felt closer, more connected to Zero One imagining him as a clone. It made him just as much a pawn as Zero had been, created for someone else's use.

"Okay," he said, deciding that if he could survive self-destructing he could survive being Heero Yuy's twin. He turned back to the TV, to Nick Stokes in particular, hoping that he hadn't missed too much.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Yes. Now let me watch the show."

***

First, a Second Disclaimer: I do not own CSI but love Catherine and Nick.

Second, I have only a vague idea of where this story is going so feel free to tell me what you'd like to see happen.

Third, reviews ring my bell, so feel free to send them my way.


	3. Chapter 3

-1Title: Understudy

Author: bikkothewriter

Pairings: None yet, leaning towards 1x2x1

Warnings: Language, Yaoi, Blood, (maybe squick depending on where the reviews and the muse lead me)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the voices in my head and even they are suing for copyright infringement.

Summary: He's lived his life as Zero One's understudy. Now free of an evil doctor's machinations what will he make of his new life? (will work on random summary)

***

Chapter Three

Standing outside in the warm sunshine, he had to smile as he walked towards the closest bus stop. He was about to spend that last few dollars he had and he couldn't be happier. At eight in the morning, he had no duties to attend to, no exercises to perform, no tests to take, no barracks to clean. His most pressing task for the day was to retrieve Zero One's bags from a storage locker at the shuttle port and for that and the promise of being reimbursed for spending his escape money, he could spend a little money and rub elbows with civilians.

The asteroid was thirty kilometers in every direction, surface flattened then covered in a clear dome where the singular city had been built underneath. It was the home of con artists and thugs, those looking to operate outside the stringent government laws and the perfect place to house a military and scientific compound. Zero had spent his entire life on the asteroid but had only set foot inside the city of Metro a handful of times and usually as part of his training. Seeing the city in the light of day, without the watchful eyes of doctors monitoring his progress made him take his time. He loitered around several streets watching people as they got on with their daily routines, realizing that he was finally just like them.

At the shuttle port filled with people moving both in and out of the city, he found the lockers Heero had told him about unlocking the storage compartment finding not only Heero's laptop and carry on bag filled with clothes but his wallet. Suppressing a grin, he flipped the black billfold open passing over his ID card to look at the two credit cards and count the few bills he found. What made him pause was the license naming Heero Yuy as a certified paramedic.

Of all the jobs he pictured Heero taking paramedic was not one of them. With the skills he possessed in combat it seemed a waste to find a job driving ambulances. On top of that, it left Zero wondering what job he would take once they were of the asteroid and on L3. He couldn't see himself taking care of dying people, rushing them to the hospital where doctors and nurses waited to save their lives, but even as he thought it, he knew that he would go through the testing to be certified. He wanted to be equal to Heero in all things and needed to prove that he could do everything that the other man could do.

Depositing the wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, he grabbed the laptop and duffel, turning in the locker key at the corner before stopping to by himself a pair of sunglasses on Heero's credit card. Slipping the dark lenses on just as he passed a group of teenage girls who were skipping school in what he assumed was a cool gesture as they watched him walk away.

On the return trip, he got off the bus a few blocks away from the hotel walking to a nearby bagel place picking up several bottles of juice and water along with an assortment of bagels and spreads to take back with him. He happily showed the cashier Heero's license as he ran his credit card to pay for the goods.

Back at the hotel, he let himself in finding Heero gone for the bed and bathroom door closed the water running through the taps. He dropped the duffel on the bed, then cleared space on the small dinette for the food and the laptop, which he immediately set up wanting to learn everything he could about Heero and the current state of the world. Booting up the machine he was forestalled by a login screen. He first tried the last password he knew Heero to use and was not surprised when he was denied access. He spent a few moments calculating the current password. He knew it would not be something simple like a name or place. He had been trained to use complicated combinations of letters and numbers and from copying Heero's passwords, he'd realized that there was a pattern in the changes of numbers and letters. Given the time between the last password he knew to be accurate and now, it only took him two more tries to access the laptop.

He grinned in achievement as he stared at the plain wallpaper depicting a starry sky, deciding to forego the internet search to dig through Heero's files to find what kind of information he kept on his computer. He was surprised by the number of music files saved onto the hard drive along with the many folders containing sheet music. Another folder contained pictures of Heero and several people dressed in matching paramedic uniforms who were smiling and goofing off in front of the camera.

He realized that in his hands was Heero's personal laptop. He ran his hands over the broken and cracked case, brushed the worn and faded keys, and touched the screen with its dead pixels. It was a well-loved machine. He couldn't imagine Heero bringing his personal computer with him unless he'd been desperate to stop the recreation of Wing Zero or more likely to find out something about his past in the last likely spot.

The door to the bathroom opened and Heero came forth towel wrapped around his waist, body glistening. He changed course from where he was heading towards the bag and his clothes to turn the laptop away from Zero and out of his reach.

"Mine," he said gruffly, just as territorially as Zero thought he would be. "How did you figure out my password?"

"Why would I tell you my secret?"

"Because I asked," Heero said shaking his head at his own answer. "Help me rewrap my chest."

He stood not hiding the smirk at having bested Heero, finding the bandages in the many bags littered along the table. Heero's chest was covered in greening bruises, showing that the serum had not hindered his healing capabilities and Zero was sure that his ribs would be mended in at least three weeks. The cuts were small now and healing cleanly and Zero didn't believe that they would scar. He had Heero brace himself against the table as he wrapped his chest, tightly securing the bandages. Done Heero moved to his bag finding clean clothes to dress himself in and Zero made himself turn away resisting the urge to inspect the other man for scars he didn't know about or for scars that Heero may be missing where Zero's body was concerned.

"Did you have any trouble?"

"None," he answered searching for the remote hoping that there was something worthwhile to watch on TV.

He and Heero had spent most of the night awake watching the marathon of CSI episodes. Heero had told him that the show was over a hundred years old and he could obtain every episode on vid disc once they were on L3. Heero had later dozed off leaving Zero to think of all the things he could buy himself once off the asteroid the series collection at the top of the list behind a motorcycle.

Grabbing a strawberry bagel and a bottle of apple juice he sat on the floor against the foot of the bed turning the channels as Heero, now dressed, sat down before his computer, back turned to Zero with the screen in view.

"Did you think of a name?" Heero asked him.

"Yes," he said having taken alone five minutes to pick a name he wouldn't mind being called other than Zero.

"What is it?" Heero asked craning his neck to look back at him.

"Orie," he said spelling it for Heero's benefit.

"Orie? Why that?"

"Heero," he said stretching the name out and then repeated with his own name, "Orie."

"Backwards?"

"I thought it was clever," he said and Heero snorted, "I didn't hear you making any suggestions."

"No, Orie is good. I like it," he replied and he had no choice but to believe him. He could hear him quietly repeating the name to himself as if getting himself used to the name.

"You're a paramedic?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Heero's hands dropped away from the keyboard, falling despondently into his lap, "I spent so much of my life killing. I want to help people now. I want to save lives rather than take them."

"Why not be doctor?"

"I don't know. I never considered it," he answered. "There was a shortage of paramedics on Side Four and I wanted to help so I took the classes to be certified."

"Is there still a shortage?"

"Yes. You don't have to be a paramedic like me. You don't have to do everything that I do," Heero said his voice reproachful, setting Zero on edge.

"Stop breathing," he told Heero.

"What?" he asked turning in his chair and Zero glared up at him as he continued.

"Stop breathing. That thing you've done your entire life? I want you to stop right now. Stop breathing."

"Oh," Heero said blinking in understanding. "Orie, I-"

He cut him off turning up the volume on the television to block out whatever apologies and excuses the man would make to him. He was not an idiot. He knew that he could be different; the problem was stopping the desire to be the same. He thought that Heero would have enough sense to realize that he couldn't change his outlook overnight, that it would take time for him to even decide who he wanted to be. He had obviously not been granted the brightest bulb to imitate and wondered if all the falls to the head Heero had suffered had left him brain damaged.

Taking the hint, Heero turned back to his laptop, typing and clicking away. At what Zero could not be sure of and had no desire to peek over his shoulder to find out. The most interesting things he could find to watch were music videos, which he quickly lost interest in and a cooking show with a very attractive chef who was doing something with shrimp and he moved eating at restaurants up on his list of things to do now free. He had spent an eternity eating ration bars and gruel, only eating nicer foods when Heero was on undercover missions and when Faust decided to have him play spot the poison.

After a time he noticed Heero lagging, somewhat fidgeting in his chair as if waiting to gain his attention and he turned that the TV's volume.

"There are classes being held in a month. The course takes about four months. You can work at the hospital, training during the day and take classes at night."

"Okay," he said happy that Heero had come around and was willing to help him.

"I emailed Wu Fei and he's going to help get you a legitimate citizen's ID and all the documents we'll need to have you officially listed as my brother. Do you want the last name of Yuy?"

"Yes. Orie Yuy. It sounds good."

"Orie Yuy," Heero repeated, turning back to his computer.

"Did you tell Zero Five that I'm your clone?"

"Yes."

"And he agreed to help without questioning it?"

"No. He says not to trust you and that he plans to meet you as soon as possible. Don't call him Zero Five; we don't use those designations anymore."

"Are you friends with all of the pilots?"

"To a degree, yes. I see Wu Fei and Quatre regularly. I haven't heard from Trowa or Duo for some time now."

"Hm," he murmured noncommittally, storing the information away for later.

"Wu Fei can get us the paperwork in a few days but I don't want to stay on Metro for that long. We'll need to get a temporary ID and passport made for you."

"We don't have the resources to make them ourselves."

"I know of someone who can do it for us."

***

He decided that he did not want to meet anymore of Heero's contacts on the asteroid. The forger, Mima, was not a young and cute girl like the name implied. He was at least forty-five with baggy, sallow skin, wearing dirty overalls, a plaid shirt and galoshes. His hair was black and greasy falling in disarray around his head. His glasses were modified with different, movable, magnifiers making one eye appear larger than the other through the lenses. His shed, because the building Heero had guided him to couldn't be described as anything else, was packed with all sorts of equipment that blinked and whirred from shelves and tables crammed into the small space. The tidiest area was the draft table the man worked at, the delicate equipment and papers used for making licenses and passports neatly arranged with the lone light shining down over the surface.

"So," the man said leering at the two them licking his lips and Zero felt nauseous, catching a glimpse of the man's rotting teeth, "what do you need?"

"A passport and ID good enough to get him off the asteroid," Heero said gesturing towards Zero.

"Just one? Are you staying behind?" he asked smiling at Heero and Zero felt the bile rising. The man was disgusting and he didn't need to be privy to his thoughts to know what he was thinking.

"No. I have legal documentation."

"Ah, so what are we trading for my services?"

"Money," he answered, glaring at the man.

"I have enough money. I want something else."

"A bullet in the leg?" he questioned and seriously meant it.

"Orie," Heero warned and he looked away. Heero saying his new name reminded him that he needed to get used to responding it and thinking of himself as Orie Yuy and not Zero.

"I like him. Feisty," Mima said focusing intently on Orie and it made his skin crawl as if the rumpled and aging man had run a cold and slick tongue over his skin.

"We aren't dealing in anything other than cash," Heero told him.

"I'm the only guy here he can give you what you need," he said leaning back with a smug self-satisfied look, "so you have to play by my rules and I don't want money."

"What do you want?" Heero asked and Orie kept still although he wanted to punch his 'twin' in the face for being so stupid as to give the snake the opening he wanted in their negotiations.

"A show. You're a little beat up," he said giving Heero a once over, "but I wouldn't mind seeing the two of you kiss."

"I'll sneak on board the shuttle," he said turning to leave and Heero grabbed his arm stopping him. Kissing

Heero of his own violation would be one thing; kissing him for a pervert's amusement was simply out of the question. He'd rather tape himself to the bottom of the shuttle and try his luck than do anything that brought the lecher pleasure.

"He likes to get a rise out of people. It's funny to him," Heero whispered leaning in to him, though he was sure that Mima heard him.

"I think shooting people is funny," he said for Mima's benefit.

"You could always kiss me instead," Mima said, showing his teeth in a dirty smile.

"Mima, enough."

"I'd rather drink bleach."

Heero sighed. "How much for the forgeries, Mima."

"You were never much fun. What do you want on the ID? Any special identities or restrictions?"

"No, just a basic forge, one good enough to pass through port security. The name is Orie Yuy," Heero said.

"A thousand, then. Though I could be persuaded to go lower for a kiss," he said in singsong and even his voice was revolting to Orie.

"A thousand," Heero said counting out the bills fresh from the ATM. He set the money on the table before Mima and Orie noted that he kept his hand out of the lecher's reach. "We need it done has soon as possible."

"It's extra for rushing. How soon do you need it?"

"In the next two hours."

"And no, we don't want to kiss you or each other," Orie said preemptively and Mima chuckled.

"Two hundred more and I'll have it done in the next thirty minutes. I have a few templates made up for just such situations."

"Fine," Heero said handing over more money.

They decided to wait as there was no reason to leave and come back and as they had nowhere to go anyways. Orie amused himself by looking at all of the knickknacks that cluttered the small space, some of them easily a hundred years old. Dolls with their eyes missing, old crumpled movie posters, and tin lunch boxes sat side by side with video games, televisions, cell phones and other electronics that caught his attention. Had the man not been so disgusting he would have asked if he could touch them. As it was, he decided to pocket the smaller cell phones to take apart later for fun.

"Orie," Mima called and he didn't like the man being so familiar with him. "I need to borrow your hand."

"For what?"

"We need to get your fingerprints on the passport," Mima said turning, gesturing him over to his left side. "Then we're all done."

He approached the grinning man wondering if he couldn't really sneak onto the shuttle. He was quite flexible and could easily fit inside of a rolling suitcase. He could endure a three-hour flight in such a cramped space and it was a much better alternative than letting the man touch him. Looking to Heero, he knew that he wouldn't allow it.

He pressed his fingers into the open inkpad, coating each digit to be printed though he knew there wouldn't be much of a print as he'd had his fingertips burned to rid him of a traceable fingerprint. Done, Mima took his hand in his guiding it to the open passport pressing his thumb against the largest square. It was as Mima cradled his index finger that his vision clouded, the desk, Mima, his hands everything before him disappearing replaced by a trapdoor, shallow water, and an assortment of knives.

_I can't wait until they leave. I'm going to cut her up. So pretty, my little star. Gonna make her love me. Wish I could keep these two. They'd look so good together._

He gasped, pulling away roughly shaking his head to clear his head of the sights and sounds unfamiliar to him. It was as if Mima had slithered inside of his head, leaving a sickening residue behind that he needed to purge himself of.

"Orie?" Heero questioned, and his voice was like a beacon, calling to him and he moved to Heero gripping the other man's arm grounding himself in reality. "What is it?"

"I don't know," he said opening his eyes to look around the room, reorienting himself. Mima had left his chair, crossing the room standing in the opposite corner, his sagging face tight with worry.

"You two should leave. Take the money and the IDs."

He was standing on top of the trapdoor from his vision. There was something down there, something he wanted to hide and Orie was torn between taking the money and Ids and leaving or confessing his vision to Heero. He was rarely unsure of what he should do in any situation but he had not been trained to handle such a dilemma. He knew in his gut someone was being tortured, or would be soon, and he could leave, wash his hands and stay uninvolved. He looked to Heero and his worried and open face, remembering his words from earlier. He had dedicated his life to saving others and Orie would only shame himself in both his eyes and Heero's if he did any less.

"Don't," Mima warned as he moved toward him, dropping his hand away from Heero.

"Move," he told the man, stepping closer his mind set. He had never been more compelled to hurt anyone than he did in that moment. Mima, his slimy voice and appearance had set him on the edge from the moment they'd stepped foot inside the shed and he didn't hold back as he gripped the man's shirt tossing him away from the door. The man crashed into the wall his collection of electronics falling, burying him.

"Orie!" Heero yelled looking between the fallen Mima and him. "What are you doing?"

"There's someone down here," he said crouching, taking the metal latch in hand, forcing the locked door open, breaking the latch. Heero helped him propped the door open as they both looked down into the darkened hole. He could see the water from his vision as light played off the slow moving waves. He could hear a muffled voice screaming and took a risk jumping down into the basement.

Hitting the ankle-deep water, he saw that it was not a proper basement but a hollowed out hole dug into the asteroid. There were cameras, both modern and antique bolted into the walls, red lights blinking, recording. Tied to a metal chair by rounds of duct tape, a dark-haired woman screamed and struggled, her hands clenching and unclenching frantically as she tried to free herself. The high-wattage lamp only inches from her face cast her struggling shadow across the room reminding him the murder scenes from the show he and Heero had watched the night before along with the tray of knives and medical utensils to her right.

Sloshing through the water towards her only caused her to scream more hysterically, no doubt believing him to be Mima with light blinding her. He turned the light away shining it towards the back of the room finding no threats waiting in the darkness before looking down to the woman as she blinked up at him.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to set you free," he told her plainly and she stopped screaming although she continued panting through her nose.

He pulled the tape and the rolled up sock away from her mouth, tossing it away and into the water hoping that it had at least been clean. He would not stop the woman should she decide to rid Mima of his balls for putting a dirty sock in her mouth.

"Where is he?" she asked and he knew without being told she meant Mima.

"Upstairs. My…" he paused as he reached for one of the knives to cut her loose having almost said original,

"brother is watching him."

The knife sliced cleanly through the tape, freeing her arms first from the arms of the chair and then her legs. He helped her to peel the tape away pulling her from the chair. She clung to him crying as he moved her towards the room's only exit. A shot rang out over their heads and the woman yelped in fear as Orie stilled listening to the sounds of struggle. He knew Heero to be an expert in hand to hand combat but the man was weak with pain and exhaustion and still drugged from the serum and if Mima had managed to pull a gun while he was distracted…

Easy to say that he did not want to finish that thought.

"Heero," he called and was answered by the sounds of crashing and another shot before things were quiet.

"Oh no," the woman said and he had to stop himself from telling her to shut up.

"Heero," he called again, worried that Mima would appear from above to leer at him and the woman.

"I'm here," Heero called and Orie could here his footsteps echoing as he approached the hole. The relief he felt in seeing Heero's bruised face appear overhead was immeasurable and he briefly wondered when he had decided to care so much about him.

"Report."

"Clear. Mima is down."

"I have a woman down here. Is there a ladder?"

"Not from what I can see. Is she injured?"

He looked to the woman who shook her head saying, "I'm not hurt."

"Hoist her up," he called, holding his hand out and Orie grabbed the woman around her knees without hesitation, smirking at the startled yelp she gave as he lifted her off the ground and towards Heero. Her weight disappeared as Heero pulled her through the hole and once she was clear he jumped, grabbing the edge of the wood floor pulling himself easily out of the underground chamber. He cleared the floor just in time to see the woman fleeing out the door.

He approached Heero where he crouched over Mima's body, two fingers pressed to the man's throat. Mima was unconscious and unfortunately free of bullet wounds though his face was broken and bleeding. Blood pooled around his head from a strong blow.

"What happened?"

"He tried to shoot me. He had a gun tucked in his overalls. I dodged the first bullet and wrestled him for the gun, which discharged accidentally. I broke his neck and the girl ran away," he recapped succinctly.

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Should we go after the girl?"

He turned towards the door considering. "No, but we need to leave."

He stood his gaze sweeping the room and Orie started at the cold and methodical look on Heero's face. He was looking at Zero One, the man he had been trained to mimic. His body was poised and rigid, hands held loosely at his side, ready for battle, a mission and he emulated his posture relaying information.

"There are cameras recording in the basement."

"Find the feed," he ordered, "We need to erase all traces of our presence here."

Orie watched the man for moment longer before set to work, checking over the equipment on the left side of the room while Heero took the right. They were a team, moving together for a shared cause and it was thrilling.

It didn't take them long to find the seven vid disc players layered around the room, each one receiving signals from the cameras, burning the images recorded straight to discs. Heero collected the discs snapping them in half and then into quarters, dropping the pieces into the duffel to be fully destroyed later.

"What do we do with him?"

"Leave him. Grab the IDs and passport," Heero ordered.

Orie moved to follow his instruction taking time to finish adding his prints to the passport before pocketing the cards. He turned back to Heero to find him taking one of the many cell phones off the shelf to his right. Turning the phone on, he dialed three numbers before pressing send then dropped it to the floor beside Mima's prone body.

"The police will be here soon."

"We're not going to burn the place?"

"Unnecessary. No one will be able to match the prints back to us. Let's go."


End file.
